Christmas Track List Disc II
by JudeDeluca
Summary: If you enjoyed the first Christmas track list so much, then sit back, listen, and enjoy as we take you on a journey through holidays past, present, and future, from the 1930s to a time when the Earth has long since died. Next, Tinya hates socks!
1. 0 Upon A Midnight Clear

Disclaimer: I do not own Legion.

Here it is, the start of my next Christmas Track List. I'm starting now to give you guys more time to enjoy it, and so I can also work on my older stuff I haven't finished. Like, all of them.

* * *

**0. Upon A Midnight Clear**

An idea came knocking "knock-knock-knock". She was curled up in an arm chair in the corner of the lounge, right next to the tree. All warm and cozy with a book in her hand. The title was "River Run" a graphic novel about the Swamp Thing. The story told of how a writer's ghost was trapped in an unfinished book of short stories. These stories took place at different parts of the Mississippi River, diverging into alternate histories. Alternate worlds, like Earth-2, Earth-3, Earth-X, Earth-Prime, etc.

It was the holiday season, and she could not think of what to get her friend, her very dear friend, for the holiday. Reading this book, the idea came to her. Instead of buying something, why not make something instead? She'll write him a book. A book? Why not, a book! She'll write down a list, in order to better arrange the flow of the stories. She'll write one story starting at the earliest year she could think of, and write her way down the timeline.

She dashed out of the lounge to her room, careful to make sure no one was awake so as to arouse suspicion of her clever plan, and pulled out a stack of writing paper and a red pen. She placed the tip of the pen down to the paper, but stopped before she could jot down a letter. She realized something important. Upon reading that book, she remembered the fatal flaw that kept that poor author's book unfinished. She would need something to link her stories together. Not just the holiday season, though, she'd need something else. There were two tying factors in those stories. She would need one as well. And inspiration hit her again. She might as well use herself for these stories. She had plenty on material to write about. In her line of work. Being a superhero isn't exactly boring business.

So Ebony Dent began writing about the Legion of Super-Heroes.

**Next Track**: _Cautionary Tales: The Tin Soldier_


	2. 1 Cautionary Tales: The Tin Soldier

Disclaimer: I do not own Legion of Super-Heroes.

I am so, so sorry for the delay you guys. Things have been so horrible over here with my parents marriage falling apart and my brother with his attitude that my creativity has all but stopped. I don't think I can post all the stories I promised in time for Christmas, but I do have something in mind.

* * *

Ebony tapped the top of the paper with the tip of her writing instrument, thinking about the first story. Maybe something sad, something hopeful, with plenty of sappy melodrama. People eat that stuff up at Christmas. There's plenty of melodrama in most of the couples in the Legion, but the two who put the word itself to shame would have to be Dawnstar and Wildfire. And... let's see, what better sappy, sad, and hopeful melodramatic setting could there be, other than... the Great Depression! That's it, now...

New York City, 1939

**01. Cautionary Tales: The Tin Soldier**

Ring-ring-ring.

The little metal bell above the door to Black's Curio Shop rang as the Native American girl in her early twenties pushed it open.

"Hello?" Dawn asked. Peering inside, she saw antiques here, there, and everywhere. Antique furniture, antique clothing, antique books, antique baubles, antique antiques! Despite how old everything was, nothing was dusty. Some of the stuff was broken, but not totaled. It was a curio store, not a junk shop. The place was lit by both old-time lighting fixtures and candles burning from holders built into the wall and a chandelier. Green and red tinsel hung from the walls, while paper snowflakes and delicate glass balls flecked with silver and gold hung from the ceiling. An old phonograph was playing 'O Holy Night'.

"Hello?" Dawn asked again. "Are you ope-?"

"Can I help you?"

"Aah!"

Dawn jumped a foot in the air when the person behind her tapped her shoulder.

"Oh my! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Dawn's breathing slowed back down to normal as she came face to face with the girl. A girl just about the same age as her, with jet black hair, wearing a lavender blouse and a black skirt. The girl's eyes were also pale blue. Very, very, VERY pale blue. The kind of eyes blind people have.

"No, no, it's alright. I shouldn't have yelled." Dawn apologized.

"Can I help you find anything?" The girl offered, gesturing with her hand towards the aisles of antiques.

"Um, no, that's okay. I'm just browsing." Dawn said.

"Christmas shopping?" The girl asked.

"How'd-"

"Um, hello." She pointed all around, and then to the phonograph where the soft, somewhat scratchy melody floated from.

"Oh. Of course." Dawn said, feeling stupid for asking a question with an obvious answer.

"Quite alright. I get that a lot." The girl waved it off.

"I didn't mean-"

"Feel free to browse." The girl cut Dawn off as she began to walk down another aisle. "We have a wide variety of, oh, just about everything. Everything is for sale and is within your price. Go ahead and take a look."

Suddenly, the girl turned around, Dawn backed up a bit as she did.

"Something wrong, miss?"

"You're not afraid I might break anything?" Dawn asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Everything breaks eventually. Just be careful, I don't feel like cleaning up a mess." The girl told her.

"Right."

"My friend Susan just got in a shipment of toys from Germany. I wouldn't want to miss out on them if I were you. I have a feeling we won't be getting many more shipments for a while."

Dawn watched the girl turn around a corner, and disappeared. She then began to look around at the wide variety of "everything". She didn't really find anything that she wanted to get her brothers. Most of the toys here were very old porcelain dolls with empty blue eyes, or faded teddy bears with hand stitched smiles. Those would be good for little Ally, but they wouldn't-"

"Huh?"

A glitter, a twinkle from a table near the end of the last aisle, was caught in Dawn's chestnut-colored eye. An open tin box, face up. As Dawn got closer, she spied inside and found a row of twenty tin soldiers, hand-painted and delicately crafted by German artisans. All wearing red hats, all carrying tiny bayonettes, all smiling.

"You find something?"

Dawn controlled herself as to not jump out of her skin this time. There was the girl, standing right next to her.

"Yes, how much for the-?"

"The Tin Soldier collection? One dollar, please." The girl answered the unspoken question.

"Just a dollar?" Dawn quizzed.

"We marked it down from two since one of the soldiers is missing a leg." The girl pointed out. Dawn looked at the assortment again. She hadn't noticed, but indeed, one of the soldiers was missing its left leg. It was the one at the very end of the soldier line.

DING!

The cash register rang up its sale. A dollar, paid in full for a near-perfect collection of antique tin soldiers.

"And as a special giveaway. A genuine South American artifact. The proprietress of this shop, my friend, Susan, acquired it on a trip to Brazil. Here."

The girl turned behind the counter to unlock a knickknack cabinet. She opened the glass door and took out a small bottle, holding it carefully with a lace handkerchief. She placed it on the counter, in the light.

"A bottle?" Dawn asked.

"Yes. It doesn't have anything in it, at least, I don't think it does, but it's supposed to be a good luck charm, or something. South American mythology isn't my area of expertise. I'm more of a Southern Gothic Romantic." The girl offhandedly said.

"What are these symbols supposed to represent? Some sort of 'y" and a couple of shapes."

In the light, the bottle was revealed to be made of ceramic. Old, perfectly preserved ceramic. Painted around the bottle were three symbols, a "y"-like symbol, then a square, then a triangle.

"Hmm, I don't know. Susan couldn't translate them. Oh well, if you have any questions you can come back after the holidays, we'll be closed until January 6th. Thank you for shopping with Black Curios, happy holidays." The girl warmly wished.

"Thank you, happy holidays." Dawn waved behind her as she walked out of the store. She began walking down the street in the snow, as the cars go by and the people walk off with packages in their arms. She was more centered on the tin soldier collection then the bottle.

_It's not that badly damaged. At least it's not-_

_Ugly._

Drake Burroughs' steely gaze was firmly centered on the steely gaze looking back at him from the mirror glass. He sat straight in a wooden chair with no arms. Then the gaze turned once again to the horrible scars dominating the left side of his face.

_That's what I am, ugly._

Two years ago, Drake Burroughs had been horribly scarred in a house fire. It wasn't his home, mind you. It was the home of his then girlfriend, Sarah Vulta, a girl whose scientist father had moved them to that farming town to have peace and quiet with his experiments. Drake had made extra money as a lab assistant, and an attraction between the scientist's daughter and the dumb hick formed. The fire in question was caused by an overturned beaker on exposed wires, and soon the whole house caught fire. Drake absentmindedly rushed into the blaze in an attempt to save Sarah's father. It ended in Drake awakening in his bed three days later, his head covered in bandages. Sarah would no longer look at him. She blamed Drake for the fire in the first place, the beaker in question was one he was supposed to have put away. She moved away three weeks later, and Drake never even had a chance to say he was sorry.

The one he was in was the bedroom of one Garth Raines. Garth, his little sister Ally, and their older brother, Michael, had been neighbors with Drake in their old hometown, before they moved for Michael's psychotherapy. Garth had found himself someone while in college, and in the spirit of good will this season he'd invited his old friends to the big city for the holiday. Somehow he even managed to pay for their fare. His and Dawn's.

_Why did I even bother coming here? I don't even know anyone. They're all Dawn's friends. I would've been better off staying at home. At least then I would've been stared at by people I actually know, instead of total strangers._

Drake sighed and turned away from the mirror, his gaze to the window.

_Oh, who am I kidding? I'd follow Dawn off the edge of a cliff. And then I'd probably do it again if she asked. It's the closest a freak like me is ever gonna get._

Ever since the bandages were removed Drake had fallen into a spiral of despair and self-loathing. Dawn was the only light of his life. She'd been his friend before, but he wasn't sure of any romantic feelings. She had some boyfriend who left her some time ago, but after the accident she'd been showing him more attention, more care. Maybe she always did and he wasn't smart enough to actually notice it.

_I know she doesn't really have those kinds of feelings for me. I might not be a genius, but I'm not stupid enough to confuse love with pity._

"Drake?"

"Huh?"

He turned his attention from the Sympathy Channel and turned around to face Dawn.

"You were sitting in the dark when I left. Have you been in that chair all day?"

"No. I went to the bathroom at 11:00. And then I went back to sit in this chair. And why not? It's a comfy chair."

"Have you even eaten anything at all?" Dawn asked.

"Not hungry." He mumbled. Dawn sighed in return.

"Drake, you have to eat." She said, pulling him out of the chair and pushing him out the door.

"I don't HAVE to do anything, Dawny. I'm twenty years old." Drake said, putting up little fight.

"Yet you insist on acting like a three-year old. My brothers act more mature than you, sometimes." Dawn muttered as the two entered the living room. The place had been decorated for Christmas as well. A tree adorned with tinsel and silver balls. Construction paper rings and an antique star on top. Red candles on the mantle, and stockings hung with care. Names hand-stitched into them. A fire roaring. Holly hanging from the walls and radio.

Amongst the Christmas decorations, little Ally's issues of _The Shadow _strewn about in disaray on the floor, as well as her toys and the toys belonging to Dawn's brothers. Some old, some broken. A teddy bear, some space toys, a toy car with a missing wheel, a jack-in-the-box, a delicate ballerina figurine, a rubber ball and jacks, and many others.

"Speaking of, where are those two little nightmares?" Drake asked.

"Garth took them with his sister for a day at the Bronx Zoo. Poor guy."

_At least that's something we agree on._

"It gave me time to do a little shopping." Dawn further explained.

"You think you've got the money for that?" Drake asked.

"I did for this. Look." Dawn lifted up the toy set and showed it to him. "It's a tin soldier set."

"But one of them's broken. See, this one's missing a leg." Drake's attention had quickly turned to that one imperfection.

"The girl at the store gave me a discount because of it. You think they'll like it?"

"Why would you give your brothers a broken toy for Christmas? I fail to see any logic in it."

"It's not that badly damaged. So it's missing a leg, big deal. That's just one toy they don't have to worry about breaking it themselves. And I got this as a freebie."

"You got a bottle?" Drake shook it. "There's not even anything in it!"

"I think it looks nice." Dawn countered.

"It looks like a five year old drew on it." Drake said, looking at the symbols on it.

"Chances are a five year old did draw on it." Dawn said. Who know? It certainly was old enough to raise enough questions about who drew the symbols.

"Dawn, I'm just gonna say it. You got gipped big time." Drake scowled.

"Excuse me?" Dawn asked.

"You honestly think you're brothers are gonna play with a broken toy. And a bottle? You get a bottle for free? What the hell is that about?" Drake asked.

"Drake, I'm getting tired of your attitude. What is the problem?" Dawn folded her arms and seriously asked.

"The problem is you dragging me to New York City to spend Christmas with all these couples. It's sickening. It's like every girl settled for the first guy they met. And you've seen the way that jerk with the ponytail's been staring at me. Why didn't you just brand 'freak' on my forehead?"

"No one's been staring at you. Much. And Brian did apologize to you. Granted Tina kicked him in the shin to get him to do it. And you're not the only one whose been stared at. I've heard the word 'injun' whispered behind my back every five minutes since we've been here."

"From who?" Drake asked, murder on his mind that anyone would ever say such things to Dawn.

"Forget it." Dawn shrugged it off.

"And I've seen the way those jerks all stare at you. I've got a good hunch the fat one and the smart kid drilled peep holes in the bathroom."

"Oh God, here it comes, the whole jealousy thing."

"What? I'm-"

"Save it, Drake. You're still mad at me about Jordan, aren't you?"

Drake cringed at the memories of Dawn and that bastard Jordan together. It was a month ago that he saw the two and he was never able to forget it.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, yes, I'm still mad at you. Deal with it."

"Deal with-?! You stupid asshole, I thought this trip would be a nice way for us to bond. To say I'm sorry."

"Bond? Oh goody, now we can talk about our feelings! What a wonderful Christmas gift that will be!"

"But all you've done is bitch and moan, like you always do. I don't know why I expected anything different."

"So, you didn't have to bring me. I was just as much happy being left at home. I know how tiresome it is to drag the freak along."

"Oh you... no." Dawn said. She breathed in deep and kept her stance. She had had enough.

"No? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what? Enough." Dawn said.

"What?" Drake asked, confused and scared.

"You hear me. Enough. I am tired of this. I am tired of your self-pitying bulls#it. I am tired of your stupid jealous, and I am tired of the way you try to harp up on your disfigurement when you constantly complain about being branded a freak."

"Oh, so you really do-"

"Zip it! Ever since that goddamn fire and ever since Sarah left you I have tried to be a friend to you. I've tried to get close to you, and until now I've chose to put up with every sardonic insult you cram down my throat. And when a man gives me attention you beat him to a bloody pulp! Thank God the police came. Should it be so wrong for someone to give me attention? Attention you obviously aren't giving. He was just being a friend and I responded in kind. I shouldn't have to feel sorry for that and yet I do and I hate you for making me feel guilty for it! And when Garth invited us to New York for the holiday I thought this would be a chance to get you out that house and help you meet new people. I thought that, maybe, it would finally be a chance for you to let go of those awful feelings. Yet all you've done is bitch and moan, and bitch and moan, well I've had it! You want to feel sorry for yourself? Fine. You want to be alone forever? Fine. I humbly allow you to wallow in this puddle of human antipathy you've created. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a walk through Central Park to clear my head. So I'll be leaving you alone, just the way you like it. Merry Christmas, Drake. Enjoy your fuk!ng melodrama."

Dawn grabbed her coat and marched out the front door.

SLAM!

"Fine, see if I care!" Drake screamed. He punched the wall.

Everything she said to him was true, but it didn't stop the pain any less. The pain he's wallowed in for so long. Tears began to form in his eyes.

_Lousy bitch. Lousy, lousy, lousy, LOUSY...!_

"Grah!"

Drake took the jack-in-the-box on the coffee table and threw it at the floor.

CLUNK!

The latch popped and the jack stuck his ugly grinning face out.

He kicked at the toys and the comic books.

He grabbed the tin soldier box and threw it at the wall.

CRASH!

The tin soldiers spilled on the floor. Staring at him, mocking him silently. He began cursing and screaming at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his face. Like a spoiled brat he trashed the place, letting out of his emotions, until finally he slumped down on the couch and sighed.

_Oh God I've done it. I've really, really done it._

He got up from the couch and sighed again, wiping the tears from his face. He didn't know what he was going to do.

He eyed the bottle placed on the night table on the left side, and picked it up. It felt light.

_Wonder if there's anything in this stupid thing?_

It took nearly all his might, but he finally managed to get the cork out.

POP!

A smoggy, dark purple gas began to float out.

*Gasps*

Drake grabbed his throat, but it was fast acting.

_Oh shi-_

THUNK.

A nice, fresh gash formed on his forehead, another fine addition to one of many. His eyelids fluttered, and then, like Amelia Earhart, he was gone.

...

_Once upon a time..._

"Uhhh..." Drake moaned.

_ONCE upon a time..._

"Once, uh... p-p-p-on a time..." Drake mimicked the voice no one spoke.

_There was a tin soldier..._

Drake watched in horror, on his side, as the tin soldier toys began to shake and quiver, until, suddenly, they straightened up and stood tall. A toy bear with a drum began banging on it's drum.

"Hup-two-three-four."

The soldiers began marching to the steady beat, their metal legs bending and moving. Their eyes no longer empty and dead. The other toys began moving out of the way as the tin soldiers marched down. Drake couldn't believe his delirious eyes at this surreal parade.

Yet, there was only one who couldn't keep up with the others.

_All the other tin soldiers marched on two strong legs. Except for one._

Drake's eyes rolled to the back of the line. There was the tin soldier, missing a leg, hopping along trying to keep up with the rest of them. He fell over and everyone laughed.

_This particular soldier had lost his leg in a battle long ago. He was considered the embarrassement of his troop, as they had fought long and hard as well, yet they always managed to save their arms and their legs._

The tin soldier with the missing leg was struggling to get up. Every time he regained his composure he would fall back down again. A truly pathetic sight.

_Of course not everyone thought the tin soldier was a joke._

A light shone on the ballerina figurine, who was now beginning to come to life as well. She stretched her delicate arms and yawned, when she was alerted by the sound of laughter. She looked to see the tin soldier trying to stand up straight. A look of worry was painted across her porcelain face, and she delicately walked, nearly glided, across the floor to where the soldier was, and helped him up.

Drake could see the look of slowly growing happiness as his painted eyes met with the ballerina's delicate ones. They exchanged smiles, and the soldier was able to lean on the ballerina for support.

The ballerina and the soldier held hands as the ballerina helped the soldier walk. It started slowly at first, until finally, the tin soldier did not have to rely on the ballerina and could support itself as it walked. Amazement laced the soldier's metal face, and the ballerina clapped her hands in joy. The two had just met, and yet there was an attraction between the two.

The soldier turned around to face the ballerina, some inches away from one another. The soldier took off it's helmet and bowed, then taking the ballerina's hand in a gesture to kiss it, although it did not have a proper mouth to do so. The ballerina did a gesture the same as giggling, blush already painted on her cheeks, and she curtseyed in response.

Suddenly, the radio turned on, the dials turning by themselves. _Greensleeves_ began to play. The rest of the toys cleared the floor. The tin soldier offered his hand to the ballerina, and she in turn took his. The two slowly began to waltz together.

Tears began to feel Drake's eyes. Tears from the shooting pain in his head, and tears as he realized all the horrible mistakes he made as this delusion played on, watching two toys dance together in front of the fire place.

A toy soldier with a missing leg had more compassion in his one leg than Drake did in his entire body and it made him feel like someone tore his heart out.

_But not everyone was happy for the tin soldier and the ballerina._

Elsewhere, the jack-in-the-box which Drake had thrown across the floor had straightened itself up as well. It stretched it's arms out and yawned, as if coming out from a deep sleep. The harlequin head bounced due to it's springy body, and when it's madcap eyes saw the ballerina and the tin soldier waltzing together, it's insane grin turned into a mad scowl. The harlequin began hopping, hopping his wooden box body along the floor, until he reached the two lovebirds. It swatted the soldier away, much to the horror of the ballerina. The jack's envious green eyes surveyed the ballerina's delicate body, and despite her objections, it grabbed her body and began hopping to the arm chair next to the fireplace.

The tin soldier was tossed into a crowd of other toys. He turned around, his dreamy romantic look replaced by horror and rage as he watched his love pantoming the words for help as the jack tossed her up the armchair and climbed up. The soldier was straightened up by the other toys. As he stood tall, he beckoned for his fellow armymen to join him as he tried to rescue his love.

The jack had now hopped to the top of the mantle from the armchair, and dropped the ballerina inside one of the stockings for safe keeping, when it narrowly missed a bayonet thrown from one of the soldiers.

Suddenly, the radio station turned again, and the sound of a bugle erupted from the speakers. The tin soldiers began to form a line, climbing up the armchair and the mantle to get to the jack. The jack began plucking Christmas cards from the mantle and fanned them in the direction of the soldiers who had managed to climb the mantlepiece. The wind blew some of them away, hanging off the mantle until finally dropping off.

The ballerina struggled inside the stocking, until she managed to stick her head out before the jack shoved her back in.

Two soldiers had gotten onto the mantle and charged at the jack with bayonets ready. The jack grabbed one of the bayonets and shook the soldier off, crashing to the floor, arms and legs breaking, head snapped off. The other toys grimaced in horror. Some had been taking the others out of sight as the other soldiers charged at the jack. But no matter what the jack kept repelling them. It's a grin of satisfaction the jack's smiling.

_Things seemed lost, when suddenly..._

The jack wiped it's hand when suddenly a silver glass ball hit it's head and shattered. The ballerina stuck her head out again to see what happened. The harlequin's angry glare turned down, to see the tin soldier with one leg at a manmade catapault created from tinker toys and a box of glass balls not used on the tree. The tin soldier sent three more flying, two made a direct hit at the clown.

Two more toys, another soldier and patchwork doll, rolled a red ball on the catapault and launched the tin soldier onto the mantle. He landed a good few inches in front of the shocked clown. The soldier aimed his bayonet at the jack, who looked around and grabbed one left behind by the other soldiers. The two engaged in a sword fight, much to the horrified ballerina, the other soldiers, the other toys, and Drake.

The battle seemed to go in favor of the tin soldier, as he managed to creep up on the jack as the two wildly swung their toy knives at one another. As they creeped away to the far right end of the mantlepiece, the ballerina was struggling to climb out of the stocking. The sword duel continued, only now the jack seemed to be getting the upper hand as the tin soldier was being forced to the far left end.

As the tin soldier was near the precipice, the jack had managed to knock the bayonet out of his hands. Cornered, the little toy did not cower in front of the harlequin, who was ready to finally get rid of him once and for all, when the tip of a bayonet was driven into the back of it's head by the ballerina. The jack spun around and swatted the ballerina down. She looked up in fear as the jack was ready to break her head off, when...

The tin soldier jumped on the jack's head, blinding it. The jack clawed at the tin soldier, hopping madly, until it lost it's balance and fell!

GASP!

The soldier and the jack fell from the mantle, the soldier shattering on the floor, the jack falling too close to the mantle and burning in the fire.

The soldier had lost both it's legs now, and one arm. The other toys gathered around him, until the ballerina pushed them aside. Fear and sadness were in her eyes as she knelt down. She would've cried if she could. But the soldier, he looked up at the ballerina, and he closed his hand inside of her's. Firmly. He looked up at her, and smiled. The ballerina, she held his hand to her face and smiled a sad smile. Their touch never parted.

_Even without his arm or either of his legs, badly damaged, the ballerina still loved the tin soldier. She loved him for the acts of kindness he showed her, the bravery and willingness to sacrifice his life for her._

_The end._

"The... en..."

And then everything went black.

...

"ake"

"..."

"rake..."

"Wha rake?" he asked.

"Drake!"

"Good, he's coming to."

"Thank God."

Drake looked around as the world returned to him. The real world. He saw Dawn. He saw a man in a white coat. He was in a hospital room, sterile and bland.

"Wha're..." Drake tried to say.

"Easy, Drake. You're in a hospital." Dawn confirmed.

"You were found on the floor bleeding from a head wound. You'd been knocked out." The doctor, Gimmell, explained.

"The-"

"That bottle you opened had some very old poison in it. You're lucky the fumes hadn't killed you." Dr. Gimmell further explained.

"I... I wanna speak with Dawny." Drake choked out. She looked at the doctot, he silently nodded and left the room.

"I leave you alone for an hour and you throw a temper tantrum. Garth's mad at you for wrecking his sister's toys." Dawn said, steely-eyed and arms crossed.

"Mess?" Drake asked.

"You're not a child, Drake."

"D-Dawny, I, were you worried about me?" Drake asked.

"What kind of question is that? Of course I was. You may be a jerk, Drake, but I was still worried. Seeing you passed out on the floor."

"Dawny, I'm-"

"Yes I suppose you're going to start yelling about how you're-"

"Sorry." Drake blurted out.

"What?" Dawn said, amazed, suspicious, incredulous.

"I, said I'm sorry. And thanks for putting up with me." Drake replied. The look that glazed his eyes was regret, hope, sympathy, love.

"It's going to take more than that to make up for the way you've been acting." Dawn replied.

Drake's head sunk

"But it's a start." She replied, with a smile.

They held hands.

That is all it took.

Next: My odometer's busted. Could be anywhere.


	3. 2 Mistletoe Fun or Foolhardy? You Decide

Disclaimer: I do not own Legion.

Okay guys, this next one's gonna be shorter. A lot shorter. But it's got TW and PG, and I know you guys liked that.

* * *

Ebony tapped at the paper with the pen point. An inspiration block, dammit. And only one down. Maybe if she did a short one the inspiration would start to come more naturally. What should she do? Hmm, nothing so bittersweet or heart churning. A piece of fluff. Fluff. Fluffy. Fluffy dog. That's it. Timber Wolf. And when fluff and Timber Wolf are concerned, Phantom Girl isn't far behind. Or Ultra Boy. Let's see...

Legion World, 3002

**02. Mistletoe: Fun or Foolhardy? You Decide**

Jo Nah, Ultra Boy began walking down one of corridors of Legion World, the artificial planet headquarters for the Legion of Super-Heroes. It was December 24th, Christmas Eve, and he wanted to know where his wife, Tinya Nah, Apparition, was, so they could spend the night together. A little dining, wining, gifts with Cub, and maybe, a little after-hour... unwrapping. Oh yeah, he was smooth.

He turned down the hall, and there was Tinya, standing under an archway. Just standing there. He looked up, and he saw why. A holograph of that old Earth plant people use during Christmas. What was it called? Oh yeah, mistletoe. And, the custom was that you were supposed to kiss whoever was standing under mistletoe. Pfft. Like he would need a reason to kiss his wife.

He decided to catch her by surprise, so, he switched to ultra speed, and blew down the hall way. His lips met hers. He didn't even open his eyes to fully enjoy his wife's kiss. But, then, he realized something.

"Oh, Tinya, when was the last time you brushed your-"

He opened his eyes, and was looking directly into the steely gaze of Brin Londo, Timber Wolf.

On the floor below, Tinya was holding her sides as she uproariously laughed as the sound of two teenage boys screaming in horror.

"Mistletoe is fun." She said to herself, wiping a tear from her eye.

Next: Odometer still broken.


	4. 3 Christmas COPS

Disclaimer: I do not own Legion.

Okay guys, this next one's gonna be shorter. A lot shorter. But it's got TW and PG, and I know you guys liked that.

* * *

Okay, Ebony thought...

_I've got some pretty good fluff up in the air. Maybe some risque comedy is in order. No, maybe not that risque. A bit rude. What can I do to twist things up a bit in the holiday hizz-house?_

_...I have GOT to stop listening the rap station._

She tapped the pencil on the paper.

_Hmm, I wonder if Santa has this much trouble when he's going over the naughty and nice lists. Santa, Santa..._

Lightbulb!

Time for a lewd Santa story, and she knew just the Legionnaire for the job...

2994

**03. Christmas COPS**

"Hey, Jo, go turn on the vid, see if there are any good holiday specials on." Reep Daggle, the newly reinvigorated Chameleon, called to his buddy and teammate Jo Nah.

On the planet Talus, the newly reformed Legion of Super-Heroes had begun setting up headquarters. It was a solem year for the Legion, what with the death of their teammate Blok at the hands of that psycho Roxxas, but with the holiday season, maybe things could perk up.

"Gotcha, Cham." The ponytailed Jo, formerly Ultra Boy, said as he flicked the screen on. Of course he had to bang it first.

"_Clarence! I wanna live again! I wanna live again!"_

"Oh yeah, I never got tired of this one." Cham said.

"_Zuzu's pet-_"

KZZT.

"_We interrupt this program for an urgent news bulletin._"

"_Folks, this is Marella Tao, reporting to you via live broadcast as the Science Police have become entailed in a deadly highspeed chase. Yes, police are not sure what sparked the deadly incident, only that the perpetrator is in fact in pursuit of another pilot._"

It cut to footage of SP patrol units chasing after an irrate pilot in a small ship, although the camerman could not make out the person being chase by the irrate pilot.

"_We caution viewers with younger children that what they are about to hear will both shock and disgust everyone abound._"

"_YOU *&$#$#$*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&#$&*&&*&*&*&*&!_" the "irrate pilot" screamed at the person they were chasing.

"Whoa." Cham and Jo said at the same time.

"Wait, I know that voice!" Cham shouted.

Suddenly, the vid flashed to show the screaming pilot stick their head out of the window. It was...

"Kono?" Jo asked.

"KONO?!" Cham screamed.

The yellow skinned, blue-haired teenage Sklarian Legionnaire was cursing her brains out until she was shot down by the SP.

"_It looks like the SPs are macing-wait, she's managed to get ahold of the mace._"

"_AAAAHHHHH!!!! AAAAHHH!!!!_"

"_OH GOD WHY?!_"

...

"Can you honestly, and in good reason, tell me what the hell you were doing?!" Cham screamed in SP headquarters as they bailed Kono out. She looked like she just swallowed an entire crate of limons.

"He pissed me off, that's why!" Kono screamed.

"What did this guy do to get you that mad?" Jo asked.

She reached into her back pocket and pulled something out.

"This!" Kono shouted, as she tossed a rock on the floor. Only, it was...

"A lump of coal?" Jo asked.

"Hey, Smertz, you get the other vehicle in?" An SP asked.

"Trying." Officer Smertz replied. "Let's go."

The Legionnaires watched as the officer was hauling behind him eight reindeer, one with a glowing tomato on his nose.

"Next year, fat man!" Kono warned to the cells behind her.

"I'll see you in ho-ho-hell!"

Next: Still broken.


	5. 4 I've Got Those MonitorBoard Xmas Blues

Disclaimer: I do not own Legion or any other characters mentioned, only Ebony Dent.

Okay, the following takes some explanation. This team, the League of Superteens, were a parody of the Legion. Back in the early 90s, DC created the Milestone Media imprint, which in turn was responsible for Static Shock. During a crossover event between the Milestone world and DC world, the two were briefly combined, and the result was a Legion, 1950s esque science fiction world. Most of the members of the League were names on a monitor board thrown in as jokes, but I got bored one day and gave them backgrounds, based on Milestone characters and Legionnaires.

Warning. This story contains two girls falling in love, but don't worry, it's nothing smutty and it's not characters you know.

* * *

Okay, Ebony thought, the ideas are starting to roll now. But, maybe a little originality is in order. Or would this be considered original. Her thoughts recalled to a simpler time, to a time of saturday morning cartoons with less than appropriate material for kiddies. A team which beared striking similarities to the Legion she knows and loves. The League of Superteens. Ah, what ridiculous names. Foxtrot Lass, Super Nazi Fighter, Frat Boy, Sterno Lad, Mall Hair Girl of all things.

Good times.

_You know, I always thought that Foxtrot Lass and Super Nazi Fighter had a thing for one another. What is it they call it when people write homemade manga? That category where they take female characters and pair them together? Yuri, that was it. Like I'm one to talk about yuri. Suzy..._

Her thoughts trailed off as she thought about her longlost love and the scent of black orchids. A twinge of sadness.

_Hmm, maybe another love story. But, oh, wait, I should keep it clean._

So, Ebony began to write another short love story, between a foxy speedster and a superstrong German powerhouse with blonde hair.

2955, Metropolis

**04. I've Got Those Monitor Board Xmas Blues**

Foxtrot Lass sighed as she tapped her pointed fingernail on the monitor keyboard. Here she was, Christmastime, and she was stuck at monitor duty. Everyone else got to have a good time. Phenomenal Lass got to spend the evening with Frat Boy getting drunk. Rocket Gal and Static Lad were having dinner on the planet Dakota with his family. Even Adhesive Lad had a date. But not her.

_Like it matters. Everyone else has family here, and I don't. Heck, I don't have family ANYWHERE._

Foxtrot Lass was an orphan. From the 1940s. She'd spent most of her life stuck in an orphanage in Harlem. She'd never even been adopted. It's not as if she was even good at anything. Not smart enough. Not pretty enough. It looked as if she was destined for a life of menial wage. All that changed that Halloween night when she bought that old trinket in that strange curio shop. And then, WHAM! Struck by lightning. She had no idea of knowing that trinket had changed her appearance, giving her fox-like features. Or that it gave her superspeed. She certainly didn't know it when she entered that foxtrot contest, and danced so fast that she broke the timespace barrier and wound up a thousand years in the future.

They offered to bring her back to her time, but she declined the offer. What good would it do? Here, she decided to use her powers for the greater good. She called herself Foxtrot Lass, after her appearance and after the dance which brought her here. After all their strange adventures, she felt as if she had finally found a family.

But no, here she was, alone on Christmas, doing nothing but watching the monitors and stuffing herself with sugar-free fruitcake.

"Merry Christmas, girl." She sadly said to herself.

"Foxtrot Lass?"

She looked up, and there was Super Nazi Fighter.

"Oh, Nazz!" Foxtrot Lass said, perking up a bit. "I didn't know you were still here."

Super Nazi Fighter, or Nazz as she was sometimes called, was a human powerhouse of physical perfection. Short blonde hair that curled around her cheeks inwardly, with large breasts and very good muscle tone. Foxtrot Lass was short, with redish brown hair to compliment her brown skin, which had become somewhat furry after her transformation. Nazz had blue eyes, while Foxtrot had yellow eyes. And the tail, of course. How could she forget the tail.

"So, um, you spending Christmas at HQ?" Foxtrot asked.

"Nah. I'm actually travelling to Ventura to be with my kin for the holiday. I just came back to get my bags." Nazz explained.

"Oh." Foxtrot said, dejected.

"Is there something wrong?" Nazz asked, concerned.

"No, it's just something I'm used to, that's all." Foxtrot explained.

"Used to?"

"Being alone on Christmas."

"That's horrible." Nazz said. "No one should be alone on Christmas, least of all you."

Foxtrot felt herself blush.

"Thanks. That, that's very sweet of you to be concerned, but I don't want to be a bother." Foxtrot said. The two never really talked that much. The truth is, Foxtrot was somewhat shy to be around Nazz. She always thought she was so cool and confident. But, maybe she had a chance to vent. "You see, I've always spent Christmas alone. I've never had a family. Brothers or sisters. Cousins. It was mostly just the other kids at the orphanage where I grew up. I always had this one wish, to get a family. Then again, I guess all orphans have that wish. But, over the years, as I grew older, any interest the adults had in me sort of waned, and I was left behind while the younger kids go adopted."

Foxtrot sighed, until she suddenly realized what she just said and blushed.

"Foxtrot Lass..." Nazz began.

"I, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be bothering you with that." Foxtrot said.

"No, it's no bother. Really, it's-"

ZZTT ZZTT.

Foxtrot turned to one of the screens.

"Uh oh. I better go. It looks like Soap Lass and Opera Lass got into a fight over who gets to date Actor Lad." Foxtrot said. "Oh well. Merry Christmas, Nazz."

"Merry-"

And just like that she was gone.

"Christmas."

...

When she came back, Foxtrot Lass was drenched and partially deaf.

_No one should ever mix Soap Lass and Opera Lass together, it just leads to trouble and bad melodrama._

She'd just left her room after toweling off and dressing in a blue Sploopball jersey, which covered her chest and went down to her thighs. There was no one else in HQ so she didn't have to worry about seeing her bare legs. Her tail wagged behind her as she wiped her hair with a towel.

_Now then, looks like another long-_

"_I'll have a bluuuuue Christmas, without you..._"

"Huh?" Foxtrot Lass said. There was music playing. And there was Super Nazi Fighter, sitting in the monitor room.

"Hi."

"Hi." Foxtrot Lass said, surprised to see her. "I thought you were leaving."

"I decided to stay. My parents will understand." Nazz said. Her eyes met Foxtrot's, who then began to blush.

"Oh, dear. You shouldn't see me like this. I'm half-naked."

"No, stay!" Nazz called before Foxtrot could run off. "You're fine. I mean, it's not like I'm Frat Boy."

"Yeah, he is a perv." Foxtrot giggled. "Why'd you stay?"

"Because, I didn't want you to be lonely." Nazz said, getting closer. "I sympathize with you in a lot ways, Fox. You see, I'm an orphan too."

"Really?" Foxtrot asked, surprised.

"We really don't talk a lot, but I've always wanted to. I've just, never worked up the confidence." Nazz explained.

"You? But you're one of the most confident people I know."

"Isn't that also a cliche?" Nazz asked. "The ones who seem confident never truly are."

"Yeah, I guess so..." Foxtrot said. "Wait, I didn't-"

"It's okay." Nazz said. "The truth is, I'm also from another time."

"Now that I knew."

"Yes, but do you know why I call myself Super Nazi Fighter? It's because my father, my birth father, had been a scientist employed by the Third Reich during World War II. During the closing days of the war, he outfitted a rocketship with an experimental time traveling device, and put me in it. He didn't want me growing up in what he claimed was an 'impure world'. He programmed the rocket to fly me through the time stream into the future. There, I landed on the planet Ventura, where I was found by my parents. They named me Corrine, and even though I wasn't an energy being like them, they never once made me feel unloved." Nazz sighed as she went on. "As I grew up, I began exhibiting a multitude of powers. I could leap over tall buildings, outrun ships, fire heat from eyes and breath ice. I developed super strength and super hearing, among other things." She motioned to her breasts. "There came a day when my parents showed the rocket they found me in. Inside was a recorded projection of my birth father. It said to me that my abilities were the result of exposure to time space stuff, and that it was my duty as the last surviving daughter of the master race to create a utopia for the race which I would have to carry on. That didn't include my parents or anyone else who wasn't white skinned. Well, I decided then and there that I would not follow my father's grand plans. I would use my powers to help all races everywhere, and I would constantly wear a symbol that stands as the antithesis to what my 'father' believed in. But, even then, there are times when I feel alone as well. Even with the love my parents have given me, the support of my teammates, I feel alone. I feel scared because of my father, and knowing what I come from. I fear what his influence might rise in me, in some way in the future, and I cover it up by acting brash. But it's hard. You have no idea how..." Nazz, no, Corrine, finished, and she was trying her best not to cry at the memory of the awful things her father said.

"Oh, Corrine..." Foxtrot said, tears in her eyes. She walked up to Corrine, and wiped a tear from her eye.

"Fox..."

"Call me Jennifer." Foxtrot said.

"Jennifer." Corrine said.

They smiled at one another, before Jennifer looked up.

"Hey, look." Jennifer pointed up. "Mistletoe."

The two stared into one another's eyes, until, they kissed. Softly, on the lips. Jennifer's tail stood up.

They didn't know Frat Boy and Dough Boy III had just entered the room and had been leering at them.

"Heeey, chick on chick act-"

WHOOSH!

The two were frozen solid by Corrine's ice breath.

"Jerks." The two said.

"Come on, how about some spiced cider?" Jennifer asked.

"That sounds excellent." Corrine agreed.

The two walked down the hall, hand in hand.

It was going to be a good Christmas after all.


	6. 5 The Stakeout

Disclaimer: I do not own Legion or any other characters mentioned, only Ebony Dent.

* * *

Ebony was glad to have finally gotten back in the zone. As she did, she recalled her experience at a second childhood...

**3009 Metropolis**

**05. The Stakeout**

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the HQ, a creature was stirring...

"Hey! Psst!" Said creature nudged to the sleeping seven-year old under the sheets.

"Nuh." The seven-year old replied in slumbering daze.

"'Nuh'? What kind of word is 'nuh'?" The eight-year old redhead asked. The other girl rose from under her sheets.

"It dates back to ancient Sumeria and is a basic word to describe a form of love making involving hot candle wax and tepid honey." She flatly said with half-open eyes.

"L-love making?!" The redhead screamed.

Eight-year old Ayla Ranzz had nearly fallen off seven-year old Ebony Dent's bed. Ayla was wearing a pair of powder blue sweatpants and a t-shirt with the "Bananas in Pajamas" on them. Ebony still had on her oversized t-shirt for "Goodbye-Land". Ebony reached over and turned on a light.

"I was joking, girl." Ebony said, sleep sand crust in the corners of her eyes.

"I knew that." Ayla said, trying to regain her composure. Ebony sighed.

"What do you WANT Ayla? I was dreaming of sugar plum fairies doing the Freddie."

"It's after midnight." Ayla whispered.

"So..." Ebony asked, wondering where this was leading.

"So? That means it's official Christmas." Ayla replied, giggling.

"Well Feliz Navidad. Wake me up in seven hours." Ebony said, and turned off the lights.

"Oh no you don't." Ayla said, turning them back on.

"What are you doing?" Ebony asked, irate and grumpy.

"I wanna wait up for Santa!" Ayla shouted.

"Didn't we already get enough of that last night?" Ebony asked, remembering two psychopaths and their unexpected visit.

"That's different. That wasn't the real Santa." Ayla said, waving it off.

"So...?" Ebony asked again.

"Oh come on! Haven't you always wanted to meet Santa Claus?" Ayla shook her.

"Well do you REALLY want to meet Santa Claus or is it just an excuse to get to the gifts he's gonna give you the minute you get them?" Ebony asked.

"..."

Ayla couldn't think of a proper response.

"Uh-huh. Good NIGHT, Ayla." Ebony said, and turned the light off again.

"Pleaaaaase? I don't wanna wait up by myself." Ayla said, not bothering to turn the light on again. Ebony sat up and turned the light on again to get a better look at Ayla's puppy dog pout.

_Nothing good's gonna come out of this. But I honestly can't leave Ayla alone. Chances are she'll probably tear through all the gifts the minute she sees them. Girl's got the impulse control of an epileptic. No offense. And besides, I'm probably gonna have to give Santa an explanation as to why we're up._

"Fine." Ebony said, sighing as she did.

"Woot!" Ayla giggled in joy. And pulled the unsuspecting seven-year old to her doom. Or not.

...

The lounge was dark. Save for the crackling of the vid fire. The large tree was filled with dozens upon dozens of gifts underneath. A plate with cookies and a glass of milk was left behind, eagerly awaiting it's Rubenesque owner.

"Wow! Look at all the gifts everyone got everyone else!" Ayla whispered.

"Joy." Ebony put it.

"What do you think they got?" Ayla asked, shaking one of the gifts, addressed to someone named "Marella" from Brin.

"I _really_ don't care." Ebony moaned. "Oh well, looks like Santa's not here. Let's go." Ebony quickly said before Ayla grabbed her shirt collar.

"Park it, Missy." Ayla ordered. She had cleared away some of the gifts in order to make a hidey hole under the tree for the two of them. As they crawled under, Ayla pulled the gifts back in their place, but with enough room to spy for any visitors.

"So, is this all we're gonna do?" Ebony asked.

"Yep. Snack?" Ayla said, holding up a couple of the cookies.

"Those are for Santa." Ebony reminded her.

"He won't miss one." Ayla said.

"Drop the macadamia cocoa clusters. Now." Ebony ordered.

"Fine." Ayla muttered.

And so, they wait...

And they wait...

And wait...

And wait...

And some time later...

"Ayla my legs are asleep and I want to join them." Ebony moaned.

"Just a little while longer. He'll be there." Ayla said, still enthusiastic.

"You're impossible." Ebony sighed.

"So, what do you want for Christmas? I mean, REALLY want?" Ayla asked, breaking the ice.

"Well... what do YOU want?" Ebony replied.

"Me?" Ayla replied. "Well, I'm just glad to be spending Christmas with Garth. It's the first one after, after I stopped being a cloud." She said, smiling, with just a sprinkle of melancholy in the mix. Shaken, not stirred.

"You ever miss being a cloud?" Ebony asked.

"No way!" Ayla said, pushing that off.

"Well, what about your other brother, Mekt?" Ebony asked again.

"Oh he's coming by. Our parents, too. We're gonna open the gifts they got us." Ayla informed her, still smiling.

"Oh..."

"Well, what do you want?" Ayla asked again.

"I dunno. It's something Santa might not be able to give me." Ebony explained, with just a pinch more melancholy in the martini that was her childhood.

"What?" Ayla plied on.

"I'll know in the morning. Which isn't long from know." Ebony wondered aloud, guessing what the time was.

"Oh don't worry. He'll be here." Ayla said.

And so they wait...

...

And Christmas morning came!

"I can't find Ayla anywhere!" Young Garth Ranzz said to his older doppleganger. The younger Garth wore red sweatpants and socks with a black short-sleeved shirt.

"Oh for God's sake, not again." The Garth Ranzz of New Earth moaned. He was wearing black sweatpants with a t-shirt saying "Ghost Patrol" along with a button-up plaid flannel shirt.

"Maybe they're in here." The younger Garth said as the two entered the lounge.

"I'll check in the-wait." The older Ranzz said.

"What?" The young one asked.

"Do you hear something?"

It sounded like... snoring.

"It's coming from the tree." The young one said.

They pushed the presents aside, to find two young girls asleep under the tree.

Ayla's eyes began to stir, when...

"Aaah!"

"Aaah!"

"Aaah!"

"Wha-?"

The two Garths fell as Ayla climbed out from under the tree, dragging Ebony with her.

"Ayla!" Her brother said.

"Garth!" Ayla responded.

"Monkey?" Half-asleep Ebony asked.

"Gah!"

"Gah? Who's Gah?" Ebony asked to the two Ranzzes, fallen over one another.

"Gah, an invisible monkey who lives in my laundry hamper." The younger Garth said.

"When did you get a invisible monkey and WHY am I just learning about this now?" Ayla asked.

"Okay, okay, enough shtick. Seriously, what are you two doing in here?" The younger one asked, annoyed.

"Don't look at me." Ebony said, yawning as she pointed to Ayla.

"I just wanted to see Santa Claus." Ayla said.

"And how is the fat man?" The older Garth asked. Ayla didn't respond. Garth sighed.

"In any case, Merry Christmas, sis." Garth said to his sister as the two Lightning Lads got up."

"So, can we open presents?" Ayla asked.

"Oh no." Garth said. "Because you decided to camp out underneath a giant plastic tree, you have to wait until AFTER breakfast."

"But Gaaaaaaarth." Ayla whined.

The two stared one another down.

"Okay, but can I have banana nut waffles?" Ayla asked.

"Sure." Garth said, taking his little sister by the hand.

"Score!" Ayla said as they walked to the kitchen.

"Good morning, sunshine." The older Garth said to Ebony. "Merry Christmas."

"erry ristmas." Ebony said as she yawned again.

"So, waiting for Santa, huh?" The older Ranzz asked, smirking.

"She wouldn't leave me alone." Ebony moaned.

"Aw poor princess. Well, come on. Breakfast?" He asked. "I'll make pancakes."

"Pancakes?" Ebony asked.

"Sure." Garth said as he placed Ebony on his shoulders.

"Well don't just stand there. Charge, Magnolia!" Ebony ordered him like a horse.

"Ye-haw!"

The two laughed as he brought her into the kitchen for breakfast with the rest of the Legion. The two girls were happy that they got what they wanted for Christmas.

Ayla: Christmas with her brother.

Ebony: Spending Christmas with other people.

They didn't see the lump of coal placed on top of the stack of gifts. With a note:

_Better luck next year, Ayla._

Next: Still broken. I've gotta sue my mechanic.


	7. 6 Yuletide Appointments

Disclaimer: I don't own Legion.

Another Timber Wolf story.

* * *

_Okay, maybe another quick comedy bit. I think Brin this time, he needs to loosen up._

1992

**06. Yuletide Appointments**

WHACK!

POW!

Nowhere Man is laying in a pool of his own blood, flesh, and excrement, still breathing though. Above him is standing the feral, hairy, Timber Wolf.

Ever since a young girl named Aria Campbell gained godlike powers as Gemini, an attempt to purge Brin of the Zuunium poisoning his system somehow granted him a feral/human state, and transported the two to 20th Century Earth. He now fights crime, once again, as TIMBER WOLF.

The police have got Nowhere Man in custody.

"Thanks, big guy. Now I can get home for dinner on time for once." The police chief says.

"Nrr. No… prob-" Brin stops in midword when he sees the time on chief's watch.

"Is… that the… time?!" Brin growled.

"Yeah, wh-"

And like that he was gone.

SprocksporcksporckSPORCK!

He runs across rooftops and does back flips and front flips across the alleyway gaps.

The Scarab is fighting his arch-enemy, Johnny Sorrow.

"Hey, a little help?" The Scarab calls.

"Can't!" Brin replies. "Emergency!"

He quickens the pace.

The Decreator is threatening to destroy the known universe as the Doom Patrol fight him.

"Yo, Furball!" Robotman calls.

"Not now!" Brin answers back.

He feels the seconds pass by. He might not make it in time.

Azrael is about to gouge out Bane's insides before Bane swats him away.

"You!" Azrael says to Brin. "I need help!"

"Some… other time. Important… emergency!" Brin explains as he runs off.

"What the hell is so important?!" Azrael screams.

DING!

"Brin, did you take the cookies out like I asked?" Aria asked over the phone.

"Yes Aria… I've got them… in my hand. Like I… promised." Brin says holding the phone up to his ear with his shoulder, wearing a pair of oven mitts and an apron, and holding a tray of gingerbread men in one hand.

"Thanks, Brin!" Aria said. "I'll be back in time to decorate them."

"Okay Aria…" Brin says as he's about to bite the head off one.

"And don't eat any yet!" Aria says.

"D'oh!"

Next: I lost the case.


	8. 7 Past Three O'Clock On A Golden Stream

Disclaimer: I do not own the Legion, but I do own Ebony Dent.

Wow, it's been so long since I've done ANY Legion story for Christmas, and with it being this Saturday...

Here's a poem I did for Rogue Kitty on DeviantArt because she's feeling blue. It involves Phantom Girl and Lightning Lad and why you shouldn't give socks to girls.

* * *

Ebony scratched her head, she'd hit a dead-end. Writer's block. The stories just weren't coming forth. To clear her mind, she wrote a quick poem that sprung to her mind.

07. Past Three O'Clock On A Golden Stream

_Past three a clock and a Phantom Girl come floating in the room_  
_Past three a clock and a Lightning Lad, unaware of impending doom_  
_Past three a clock and a gift of socks, a tag with her name_  
_Past three a clock and a Phantom Girl, wanting to kill, scratch and maim_  
_Past three a clock and a frosty morning, a bowl of water in her hands_  
_Past three a clock and a Phantom Girl, the cleverest in the land_  
_Past three a clock and a frosty morning, made warm by the flowing stream_  
_Past three a clock and a Lightning Lad brings Christmas with a scream_

Yeah, that got her going. Maybe now the idea stream could go flowing as fast as the stream in Lightning Lad's bed.


End file.
